


Scar(let)

by rhododaktylos_yue



Series: Magic Markings [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Eye Trauma, Gen, follows canon with one slight alteration, minor jetko, please steer clear if that might upset you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhododaktylos_yue/pseuds/rhododaktylos_yue
Summary: "The cursed fire which Ozai used to burn his son created a scar which changed shape, size, and color according to Zuko’s emotions and actions, like the flickering of a flame feeding off different chemicals.When Zuko was a good and honorable prince, the kind of prince of whom Ozai could be proud, his scar was less pronounced. When Zuko strayed from his destiny, it marred both his honor and his face."Zuko's scar is cursed in an attempt by Ozai to guide Zuko towards more honorable decisions.
Series: Magic Markings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858363
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115





	Scar(let)

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a way for me to explore my thoughts on Zuko's scar and its symbolism, and some of my feelings about it in, like, the least subtle way possible. (I will return to this theme in subtler ways.) Thanks to the Zukka Nation discord for the initial idea!!!

Ozai punished Zuko in three ways for his outburst at the meeting in the war room:

The first was for Zuko to fight an Agni Kai to defend his honor. An Agni Kai against his own father. It did not matter that Zuko refused to fight; there was no way for him to win.

The second was the scar upon Zuko’s face. Ozai had decreed that his son would learn respect, and that suffering would be his teacher. The scar was the tool with which Ozai taught; it measured how well Zuko understood how to be loyal to his father.

The cursed fire which Ozai used to burn his son created a scar which changed shape, size, and color according to Zuko’s emotions and actions, like the flickering of a flame feeding off different chemicals.

When Zuko was a good and honorable prince, the kind of prince of whom Ozai could be proud, his scar was less pronounced. When Zuko strayed from his destiny, it marred both his honor and his face.

The third punishment was exile.

↢ ⽕ ↣

The pain was excruciating when Zuko woke in an unfamiliar metal room. Uncle sat in a chair, fast asleep, teacup on the small table next to him.

Zuko tried to ask where they were, but all that came out was a pained grunt. His head spun as if the whole room was pitching from side to side.

Uncle stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and then he was wide awake. “Prince Zuko! How are you feeling?”

Like someone had practiced acupuncture on his eyeball. Like someone had peeled the skin around it off with a razor, layer by layer, until he bled through. Like the gauze against the raw flesh was only intensifying the pain, but exposure to the air would intensify it, too, and water would not soothe it but would make it sting.

Like he had been laid bare, and his vulnerability would always be written on his skin.

Zuko grunted again. “Bad.”

He pushed himself to sitting, teeth gritted against the agony that threw off his balance and made his head scream. Maybe the swaying of the room was just him improperly perceiving things.

His eyes fell on the scroll that sat on the table, inches from Uncle’s hand. “What is that?”

Uncle hesitated before handing it over, as if he was reluctant to do so. “Prince Zuko, please do not take your father’s words to heart-“

With shaking fingers, Zuko unrolled it, his eyes skipping over words in his frenzy. He forced himself to slow down and read each character.

_Zuko –_

_You have dishonored yourself and all those associated with you. It is necessary that you learn respect and earn your honor back. Prove to me that you are devoted to our great nation by bringing the Avatar – the last feeble threat to our power – to me._

_Your scar will act as a compass to guide you in becoming a stronger, more honorable man._

At the bottom was stamped the crimson insignia of Firelord Ozai.

It took years for Zuko to understand that this letter was perhaps the cruelest of all the tortures Ozai inflicted: giving Zuko false hope. Making Zuko think that his father loved him. That the quest Ozai outlined in it was meant to be completed and Zuko was meant to come home.

When Zuko put the letter down and declared his intentions to hunt the Avatar, his scar hurt a little less, the pain subsiding into prickling and aching.

He ignored the pain written upon Uncle’s face.

↢ ⽕ ↣

Zuko was not a particularly quick learner (unlike Azula), and it took him a year to fully understand all the consequences of the scar.

Before the bandages had even come off, Zuko noted that the pain receded whenever he took charge, or ordered someone to do something, or punished insolence in his sailors. He started shouting a bit more often.

He also noticed that he no longer had as firm of a sense of balance as before; he had to relearn how to walk without swaying, a task made more difficult by the fact that they were aboard a ship at sea.

Realizing that his hearing and sight had been permanently damaged by the injury took Zuko longer. Even after the bandages came off, he hoped that his vision would return, but when he covered his right eye all he saw from his left were blurry, glassy shapes. His depth perception was also screwed, and occasionally he’d be surprised by someone approaching from the left, unable to hear them.

Gradually he adjusted.

He had to relearn how to firebend, too, which made his scar throb and was clearly related to the curse no matter what Uncle said about trauma. The task was made more difficult by the new impairments, but what Zuko lacked in quickness he made up for with perseverance. He would keep working, no matter how long it took.

It helped that every new form Zuko mastered made the scarlet skin around his left eye a little less angry-looking, the color fading and settling and muting. It never went away and it never changed by much, but Zuko examined it every day in the mirror anyway. It became a symbol of the distance between himself and his father, and it was as if, if Zuko could just get the scar to go away entirely, he could go back home.

↢ ⽕ ↣

The return of the Avatar made the scar even fainter, and Zuko felt more hopeful than he had in a very long time, even as he pursued this insufferable snakeweasel of a twelve-year-old across the globe.

↢ ⽕ ↣

Things changed again with Zuko’s failure at the Siege of the North. In hindsight, it was obvious that Azula’s invitation home again was a false one; Zuko’s scar was more prominent than ever. He had not yet regained his honor.

The rough, reddened skin spread down his cheek as he and Uncle wandered the Earth Kingdom. By the time they were on the ferry to Ba Sing Se, the scar was beginning to crawl down along the side of his neck.

“Did you get that fighting a firebender?” Jet asked, his gaze transfixed to the scar. The color had deepened to burgundy and Zuko no longer looked in mirrors.

The two of them stood on the deck of the ship, leaning against the railing, and night had fallen but the moon and her watery reflection illuminated everything clearly enough. They were hidden from the rest of the passengers, if any were still awake, by the semi-labyrinthine organization of the boat.

“Yeah,” Zuko said, and he left it at that. It was the truth, after all. Mostly.

He was glad when Jet leaned closer, if only for a subject change, and he let Jet kiss him.

There was nothing particularly special about Zuko’s first kiss; it didn’t even feel like a first, because neither of them were tentative or hesitant. They both kissed like they fought, fueled by anger but fluid and physically aware of each other, almost able to predict the other’s response. They pushed each other and allowed themselves to be pushed.

Zuko grunted when Jet bit him, and Jet pulled away with a laugh.

“We make a good team,” Jet said.

Zuko was disappointed later, when Jet accused him – accurately – of being a firebender, but he was hardly surprised that they didn’t work out.

Things tended to go wrong for Zuko far more often than they went right.

↢ ⽕ ↣

Releasing the Avatar’s bison triggered the worst expansion yet.

While Zuko slept, his mind occupied fighting nightmares, the scar claimed more and more of his pale skin.

Uncle’s expression was grave when Zuko paused in front of the mirror in their cramped apartment.

“It only measures how much like my brother you are,” Uncle said. “It is not a bad thing to be your own man, Zuko.”

There was still something unsettling about the vivid red patches that decorated a third of Zuko’s face, creeping their way down to brush his collarbone. They seemed more freshly bloody now with the more vibrant hue, and the skin was peeling and cracked, the texture less smoothed over by the healing influence of time. The scar had not looked this ugly since Zuko had first got it.

Uncle was right, though. If Zuko’s father was never going to accept him, he might as well stop holding himself accountable to the man’s standards. The worsening scar was inevitable.

Zuko took great joy in Uncle’s excitement at the prospect of a new day of tea-making, and let go of his anxiety about his appearance.

The scar didn’t measure anything anymore.

↢ ⽕ ↣

Katara’s eyes widened when she saw Zuko in the crystal caves beneath Ba Sing Se, and he wasn’t sure if it was a reaction to seeing him at all or to how much his appearance had changed. It certainly lent credence to his assertion that he had changed as a person.

When she offered to heal him, it felt inexplicably right; after all, he was finally building a new life, far from his father’s influence. He should be freed from his father’s curse, too, and shed that connection.

Katara healing him felt right, up until the moment Azula offered him a real way home.

Zuko took it.

↢ ⽕ ↣

When Zuko exchanged his Earth Kingdom clothes for Fire Nation attire, the sight of his reflection was shocking.

The scar was almost entirely gone. The only sign that he had been burned nearly four years ago was some shiny pinkness to the taut skin around his eye.

After so many months of it growing worse and worse, he’d thought maybe it wouldn’t go away. It was a scar, after all; under usual circumstances they were permanent.

But here was proof. Proof that he was a man that his father could be proud of. An honorable man.

A man who had betrayed Uncle, after everything they’d been through together. After all the ways in which Uncle proved that he loved Zuko.

(Like a father might love his son.)

Zuko pushed that out of his mind. _Uncle betrayed you_ , Azula had said.

 _Azula always lies_ , something replied in the back of his head.

He ignored it.

Hesitantly, Zuko held his hand up in front of his right eye. Even with only his left, he could see clearly. Not perfectly – characters were still slightly blurry, when he picked up a scroll at random to test – but well enough.

He snapped his fingers next to his left ear. The sound was muffled, distant, but he heard it.

At first, it was a relief. The greater perception was helpful; in Caldera, he needed to be more alert than ever, and it felt good to be less visibly vulnerable. To no longer have his weakness and his failures written on his face.

Then it became annoying. He’d learned to compensate for his bad perception, and now he was overcompensating, back to bumping into walls and tables and doorways. (Azula always laughed at him.) Noises were too loud now that he was getting them in both ears. The overstimulation made him irritable.

After the war meeting, when Zuko saw that the scar was entirely gone – his skin flawless and soft, as if the scar had never been there at all – he realized he missed it. Without it, he almost felt as though his face didn’t belong to him. As if he was looking in the mirror and someone else was staring back.

What was _wrong_ with him?

↢ ⽕ ↣

If Zuko could have seen the confrontation from the outside, he’d have watched his own face grow redder as he faced his father.

“How can you possibly justify a duel with a child?!”

The pain of the scar returning was blinding, like being branded again. But Zuko was realizing that he didn’t want to be the kind of man that his father thought was ‘strong’ or ‘honorable.’

“It was cruel, and it was wrong!”

He fought through the agony; he had lived for years without use of his left eye or ear. He could adjust quickly to doing it again. He refused to sway or throw up or black out.

At that moment, he had something he needed to say, and his father was going to listen.

↢ ⽕ ↣

The readjustment took way longer than Zuko had thought it would, mostly because the scar was even uglier than ever before, and its effects on his senses were even more pronounced.

The good news was that the scar wouldn’t get worse; as the Avatar’s firebending master, training Aang so that he could kill Firelord Ozai, he was as much of a traitor as he could ever be.

The bad news was that he kept tripping.

“Are you alright, Sifu Hotman?” Aang asked, when Zuko bumped his shin against the fountain in the Western Air Temple and let out a curse that definitely was not appropriate for a twelve-year-old to be hearing.

“Don’t call me that!” Zuko snapped, rubbing his shin.

“Sorry,” Aang said, and he looked slightly hurt by Zuko’s outburst.

Zuko sighed, feeling a little guilty. He offered a small token of honesty as an apology. “I forgot what a pain this is.” He gestured at his scar.

“It’s cursed, isn’t it?” Aang asked, sitting next to Zuko on the edge of the fountain.

He nodded.

“What’s the curse?”

Zuko sighed again. “The more I’m someone my father would consider _honorable_ , the less noticeable the scar becomes. Now that I’m helping you...”

Zuko let Aang fill in the rest for himself.

“Who would give you a curse like that?”

One eyebrow raised, Zuko said, “My father.” He’d thought everyone had known.

“I thought... the monks made it sound like with marks like that, the scar is inflicted and cursed, at the same time?”

It occurred to Zuko that Aang thought that the burn and the curse were separate, and that Aang was asking who had burned him.

“My father was responsible for the burn, too,” Zuko said.

Aang’s eyes widened, and Zuko thought back to when he himself was a naïve twelve year old like Aang, certain that his father wouldn’t do something needlessly cruel, less than a year before the Agni Kai.

He’d continued to believe that his father was more merciful than he truly was up until Zuko felt the heat of the flame on his face.

Zuko stood. “Let’s try that last form again.”

Ozai would show Aang no mercy, either, so Aang had to be ready by the time Sozin’s Comet came.

They had work to do.

↢ ⽕ ↣

Freshly coronated Firelord Zuko still didn’t like mirrors much, but he was trying to get used to them.

He stared at the royal hairpiece, gold against his dark topknot, eyes skating over his ceremonial robes. His scar was almost the same red as the robes were.

Maybe he didn’t have to like his face, scar and all. Maybe it was enough - for now - that the face in the mirror was _his_. Not his father’s, as much as Ozai had left his mark upon it, but a face which revealed Zuko’s alliances and choices, and his vulnerabilities, too.

Zuko could learn to be okay with that.


End file.
